


Your Face Is Like a Melody

by jowritesfiction



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:23:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jowritesfiction/pseuds/jowritesfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic takes place in a sort of AU pre-curse timeline, in which David and Regina meet as children. It was written for Evil Charming Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Face Is Like a Melody

She was possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was more beautiful than the deep rich colours of the woods that surrounded his old home. She was far more beautiful than the vivid shades of the setting sun above a yellow field. More beautiful than a painting that he had seen in her home only moments before.

She had her back to him, scooping flowers out of the meadow with a twinkling kind of laughter, humming a tune that he wished he knew the words to. And then she dipped herself into a modest curtsey, before falling to her knees in the blanket of grass and flowers. He wondered if he’d just imagined her, because the way the sun was hitting the wildflowers in her makeshift crown couldn’t be real.

She just couldn’t be real.

“Y-you look like a p-princess.” He sputtered out, earning a surprised look from the girl as she turned her attention to him.

“I am a princess.” She replied then with her head held high, sounding nearly a decade older, “And one day I’ll be queen.”

And he believed her.

She was all of nine years old when she told him, but he hadn’t quite turned eight and had never seen anything lovelier than her. He didn’t exactly know the difference between a queen and a princess, but he didn’t think anyone else should have the title except her.

(And she would have agreed, a wicked smile painted across her lips.)

–

He followed her for years, his smile wide and honest whenever she glanced back at him.  _Regina_. The name of a queen that she was determined to become, since the first time he had stumbled upon her. And he could still see it, from the delicate tilt of her chin to the intensity of her brow to the words that fell from her lips.

He was her shadow.

He was the favoured knight to her queen when they played make-believe in the morning. He was late afternoons spent sprawled in the grass with his head in her lap asking about her lessons for the day. He was early evenings smelling of a day’s work with his rough hand tucked in her delicate one as they fed the horses. He was late evenings right outside her window while they counted stars together and talked about their future.

She was the only friend he had.

–

He was fourteen the first time he kissed her or really when she kissed him. It was soft and persistent enough that he ended up lost in the moment with his fingers tangled in her dark hair. The kiss was over just about as fast as it began, as his eyes blinked open to see her do the same, wondering if her cheeks had been that rosy only moments before. It wasn’t until he tried to initiate a second kiss, and she light-heartedly batted him away, that he realised that she had him wrapped around her finger.

“Give me your hand, David.” She whispered to him with a smile that he couldn’t decipher.

(And she wanted his heart and his soul too. She wanted all the pieces that he was willing to give her. All the pieces that made her feel whole again.)

He complied without hesitance, his hand outstretched as she clutched his wrist. She traced her fingers over the calluses on his hand, as well as the cuts and bruises left after long days of labour. Then she lowered her head as she pressed her lips against a scar on the back of his hand.

Their next few kisses were moments stolen in the meadow, hidden behind the stable, or in passing between his quarters and her home. He knew that he was just the maid’s son – a lowly stable hand, nothing close to what a real princess deserved, but he couldn’t help but fall for her.

–

Their last kiss wasn’t anything particularly special. Nothing that stood out that he could hold onto on the quiet nights when he was sent so far away from her. He wished he had held on tighter, kissed her longer, proved just how much she meant to him. He wished he had overlapped their lips and pressed against her for hours or slid his mouth against her neck, telling her how beautiful she was – how wonderful of a queen she would make. But instead it was a chaste kiss pressed to his lips before he was being flung across the room by a flash of purple smoke.

And then her mother was booming, shouting words that he could still hear in the dead of night. And Regina had fled as fast as she could, not even glancing back one final time. It was the last time he had seen her before he was banished to his quarters. The next day he and his mom were shipped off to a new home, four villages away.

It was the last moment that he replayed in his mind over and over, trying desperately to grasp onto the memory that lingered in his mind while he tended to the sheep.

–

The farm was quaint – a far cry from the estate that he was used to. His days were longer. They stretched on so much longer, the loneliness eating away at him. As there was no one that could compare to the girl in the meadow, that he fell for almost a decade ago, to distract him. But he could still see her smile when he closed his eyes. And he could hear her laugh sometimes in the breeze. And could remember her in the stars above his head – hoping that she was counting them too.

(And she was, wet eyes and wonder as she stuck her head out of the window and tried to remember the feeling of his palm pressed against her own.)

The thought of her was the only thing that comforted him when he wished he could touch her once again. He longed for her soft skin and sweet kisses. The feeling of her tucked into his arms. But she was far too many miles away, rumored to be engaged to a king.

At least she was getting what she always wanted.

–

His farm was in trouble and his twin brother was dead.

Suddenly he was stepping in for a twin brother he hadn’t known he had. He had to save his farm and help his mother. And so he sold his soul to the devil caked in gold glitter, and suddenly he was the dashing prince that the kingdom loved. And he was being shown off to all the nearby kingdoms so that his ‘father’ could make the perfect match.

It was worse than the farm that he still detested – this production that he had to perform. He felt lonelier in a sea of people than he ever did by himself at the farm. There was something to be said for this vast emptiness, the false smiles and polite pleasantries, of people who didn’t notice that their prince was dead and he was an imposter.

He spent months travelling from one kingdom to another, always a dinner, and always a ball. It wasn’t until he was nearing the half year mark that he found himself in front of a young teen named Snow White and a little girl that was all grown up.  _Regina_. His Regina. And she was barely even looking at him.

–

“Your Majesty.” He greeted, a tilt of his head in a bow that had him pursing his lips and furrowing his brows, trying to hide his distaste.

Three years had changed them both, but he was nearly sure that it hadn’t been for the better. Sure, she now had a kingdom to co-rule, and he was impersonating his twin, the prince, but those titles weren’t all they were cracked up to be. He heard the rumours about the new queen of this land, and how her people didn’t respect her. Nor did he particularly enjoy being paraded around kingdoms to find a suitable bride according to his father.

And then there were her eyes, her once beautiful and open eyes were now staring at him as though they could barely recognize him. There was no warmth there, instead only darkness.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, so many words crashing through his mind like a flame from a winged beast. And then amidst the near crushing heartbreak and thundering rage he found his words, a mantra that had haunted him for months – years even. The words that lulled him to sleep and woke him up in the morning.

“I hope this is everything you ever wanted.” He said out loud, the words sounding far more like a wish than a threat or insult. And it’s there – teetering on anger and adoration that he remains, one foot in this world and one foot in another.

“It is. It’s what I deserve. …How is your sweet little mother? Still managing to keep the goats alive without her pretend prince?” She asked with a laughing tone that reminded him far more of her mother than the woman standing in front of him.

“Regina.” He said softly, warning her that she was overstepping boundaries. She didn’t have the right to ask him about his mother, especially not in that tone with those haunting eyes staring back at him. He averted his eyes suddenly, focussing on the large mirror behind her.

“It’s Queen Regina now.” She reminded him.

(The title was important. It was everything that she wanted and everything that Cora wanted too. It meant everything Regina sacrificed – the freedom and love of a boy that had meant everything to her – meant something more than just loss. It meant devotion. The cost had to be worth the price of the crown on her head.)

“Yes, I suppose it is.” He added softly, defeat etched onto his face, before he straightened his shoulders and focused back on her. “How’s Cora?”

He could hear her inhale, even from standing so far away from her in the over-sized room. And in that moment it was clear that she was just like her mother. He wasn’t sure the exact moment he lost Regina, but it might have been when Cora had caught them kissing so many years ago. And Cora might be nowhere in sight at this kingdom, but she was also standing right in front of him.

“I think you should leave. I’m not that little girl from the meadow anymore playing games with the maid’s little boy. I’ve grown up. I’m a Queen now.”

–

She snuck into his room in the dead of night two days later. He nearly thought it was an intruder until she looked at him with that smile that caught his breath. Somewhere under the mask of Queen was the girl that he had fallen for. And there was a glint in her eyes as she stalked toward him on the bed and sat down beside him.

“One hundred and seven.” She told him, and he smiled knowingly.

She counted the stars without him, but he was ready for her.

“One hundred nineteen.” He countered, just as she pressed herself against him with her head on his shoulder and her arms around his torso. He held her for a long while, listening to her breathing and humming childhood songs under his breath. It was calming to have her in his arms, and he told her such.

“Kiss me.” She urged, looking up at him with wet lashes.

“You’re married.” He countered, unwilling to commit treason for a woman that was legally connected to another man.

“Not in my heart.”

And that was all he needed, before he swept her into his arms. His lips pressed against hers in an instant, drinking in the taste of wine and something undeniably familiar. His hands held her closer, unwilling to let her go a second time. This was a kiss to make up for their last one – a kiss that he had wanted for three years.

Then she opened her robe, revealing far more skin then was deemed appropriate and he devoured her with his eyes. His mouth followed the trail, soft kisses against her neck and biting ones around the swell of her breasts from beneath the corset. She was more beautiful than he remembered – an exotic treat of caramel skin and soft moans. His tongue traced a pattern down her side while she squirmed against him, requesting more. Always more.

He complied, his hands kneading her breasts as they sprung free from the top of her corset. His lips pressed against her neck once more, this time attacking her skin with lips and teeth and stubble. He heard her groan, as he maneuvered them so that he lay on top of her. And she was still the loveliest thing he had ever seen. All soft skin and dark eyes and a hammering heart.

“I love you with all of my heart. All of me.” He whispered, tucking away the silent tears as they slipped down her cheeks.

And then they came together – a frenzy of skin on skin, a raw feeling of need and want. Her mouth parted, her legs trembled as she murmured his name and he continued his thrusts, willing her to feel the euphoria he knew was coming. Then his lips pressed against hers again, words of encouragement spilling from his lips like an overflowing fountain. And she smiled, her back arching and her eyes closed as she fluttered between her legs.

It was moments later when they had finished and were wrapped in each other’s arms that she finally repeated his words back to him.

(For she loved him too, with every beat of her heart and breathe in her lungs. She loved him since the moment she saw him with his too long hair and charming little smile. And she loved him every moment since, even when he left her behind.)

“We need to run away. Find your mother and start again.” She offered, sleep curling into her voice, while she ran her hand against his bare chest.

“You’ll never be queen again.” He told her, wanting her to know exactly what she was giving up. It was harsh, but she needed to know the consequences. She needed to know what a life with him would entail.

“Then I shall be a sheep herder.” She replied, stifling a yawn while she pressed herself closer to him.

“The king will never stop looking for you.”

“Then I shall be a bandit – with you on my side.” She stated.

“Always.” He told her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before they drifted into a light sleep, still holding onto one another.


End file.
